


Just a Little Bit Drarry

by Aynn_Ward



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 14:13:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16042103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aynn_Ward/pseuds/Aynn_Ward
Summary: Confused, Ron can't seem to wrap is tiny little brain around the idea that Harry's gay...and some snakes have a bit of an "accident."





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This was posted elsewhere...but I thought I'd bring it over here!

“Harry, there’s nothing wrong with being gay,” Hermione said, shaking her head as she walked with her friends. They’d decided to sneak down to the kitchens for a little midnight snack. Sneak wasn’t really the word for it though—Headmistress McGonagall had lifted the curfew for the eighth years, so they were perfectly within their rights to be out and about. But still, it felt like sneaking, after years of not being allowed out of their House after nine at night.

Harry was frowning. Inherently, he knew there was nothing wrong with it, but...he sort of felt guilty...about breaking up with Ginny, at least. He glanced at her. Ginny seemed to be fine with his new orientation. Or rather, his new discovery.

“I know,” he whispered, thinking of all the times his cousin had made derogatory remarks about homosexuals. “I just—”

“Maybe it’s just a phase,” Ron suggested.

Both Ginny and Hermione rolled their eyes.

“Harry’s gay, Ronald,” said Hermione. “That’s not going to change.”

“Why not?” Ron asked. “He was straight up until now, so...why couldn’t he be straight again?”

Hermione stopped walking and everyone halted with her. “Ron, Harry was never straight. He just...hadn’t figured it out yet?”

Ron frowned. “But...how’s he going to become a Weasley then? I mean...he was supposed to marry Gin.”

Ginny snorted. “Ron, I don’t have the right plumbing,” she said. “Plain and simple. Unless I have a sex change, which is not going to happen! As much as I love Harry....” She shook her head. “Nope! And marrying me wouldn’t have made Harry a Weasley, it would have made me a Potter.”

Ron continued to frown. “But—”

“Hello,” Harry interrupted, waving a hand at his three friends. “Standing right here.”

Hermione blushed. “Sorry Harry.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. And I’m sorry, Ron,” he said, looking at his friend, “but there’s no going back. Hermione’s right, I just...didn’t know before. But I do now and girls are out for me.”

Ron sighed. “All right. How about Charlie then?”

Harry laughed. “Charlie is nice and all, but...I’m not especially attracted to Charlie. And I don’t think he’s gay.”

Grinning, Ginny shook her head. “He’s not.”

Opening his mouth to suggest something else—or so they assumed—Ron stopped when a bright light flashed down the corridor, there was a crashing sound, and someone let out a scream.

Quickly, the four friends ran toward the commotion, stopping at the top of the stairwell that led down to the floor with the kitchens. At the bottom they saw three girls—three Slytherin girls, one which was not their favorite person.

Hermione, of course, didn’t let the color of the girls’ House deter her; she instantly scurried down the stairs.

“What happened here?” she asked, kneeling beside the girl—she couldn’t recall this one’s name—who appeared to be unconscious. Reaching out, Hermione pushed the girl’s hair aside and examined the bloody lump on her forehead.

“Don’t touch her, Granger!” Pansy Parkinson barked. “We don’t need your assistance.”

Ron snorted. “We can see that.”

Pansy’s eyes narrowed and she glared, but the third girl spoke—it was Daphne Greengrass.

“We were...taking a walk...outside,” the pretty blonde Slytherin said, tears in her big blue eyes. “We were going to go get a snack in the kitchens, but....” She stopped and looked around, obviously unsure about what she should say.”

Ginny knelt down. “You can tell us,” she said gently. None of them particularly liked any of the Slytherins, but they didn’t hate them either.

“We were attacked at the top of the stairs. Someone shot a stinging hex at us and...Darla fell down the stairs,” she said, looking at her unconscious friend.

Frowning, Hermione stood up. “We need to get her up to the hospital wing. Ron’ll carry her.”

Ron’s jaw dropped open. “W-what?!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Ronald!” Hermione snapped. “Obviously, Darla needs to be carried, so...pick her up. Or do you expect me to do it?”

Blinking, Ron quickly bent down and scooped the girl up and looked at his girlfriend—who was waiting for Pansy and Daphne to get up. The latter stood, the former didn’t move from her place on the cold stone floor.

“Aren’t you coming?” Ginny asked.

Pansy bit her lip—then winced. And that’s when they realized she was injured too. Her lip was bleeding and she had an abrasion on her cheek.

“It’s...my ankle,” Pansy said after a moment. “I...twisted it...running down the stairs after Darla.”

Nodding, Harry came forward and gathered her up.

“Hey! Potter! What the hell are you doing?” the dark-haired Slytherin girl protested, squirming and trying to get out of Harry’s grasp.

Harry raised a brow. “You don’t seem capable of walking, Parkinson, so....” He let his words trail off.

Exasperated, Daphne snapped at her friend. “That’s enough, Pansy! We need help and they’re offering it. Grow up!”

Pansy raised her chin defiantly, but didn’t protest further as Harry cradled her against his chest.

“Relax, Parkinson, I don’t bite,” Harry said, all but laughing at her discomfiture. She just glared.

And so, that’s how the four Gryffindors came to be with the three Slytherin girls.

~oOo~

Grinning, Blaise Zabini pushed Rebecca Douglas up against a wall and kissed her silly—then groaned when she broke it off and leaned away from him.

“You are such a tease,” he complained.

Laughing, Rebecca grabbed his tie and pulled him, dragging him into a room. It was an empty classroom—or so they thought.

“Occupied,” someone called out with obvious irritation.

This made Blaise stop and look around. “Hey, Draco,” he said, spotting his friend. “Fancy meeting you here.”

And that’s when Rebecca gasped. “Nate! What...are you doing with him?!” she said, pointing at Draco Malfoy. She didn’t like the blond Slytherin and didn’t want her brother with him.

Running a hand through is disheveled hair, Draco smirked. “I think it’s perfectly clear what we’re doing, Douglas...so why don’t you bugger off so we can continue!”

“Don’t you talk to me, Malfoy!” the girl snapped, starting for Draco Malfoy—only to be grabbed by Blaise and restrained. She resisted strongly, ending up scratching her boyfriend’s face with her fingernails. Blaise instantly released her and reached for his face and that’s when Rebecca reached for her brother and shoved him away from the blond, then hauled back and punched Draco in the face.

Draco held up his hands to defend against her blows, then grabbed her wrists. “Blaise, control your girlfriend! She’s an animal.”

Chuckling, Blaise moved between his friend and the girl attacking him. “Calm down, my pretty little Badger,” he said sweetly, hoping to soothe her fury—and that’s when Rebecca noticed the blood running down her boyfriend’s smiling face.

“Oh! Blaise. I’m so sorry,” she said, reaching up to touch where she’d marked him.

Blaise shrugged. “It’s fine, little violent one,” he said, leaning in and kissing the girl wetly.

Touching his eye, which he could feel bruising already, Draco snorted. “Violent much?!” he said, eyeing their slobbery smooches with disgust. “And I thought only Gryffindors lacked decorum.”

Rebecca looked from Blaise to Draco and glared. “Shut it, Malfoy!”

“All right. I think we ought to head up to the hospital wing and have Madam Pomfrey heal this,” Blaise said, gesturing at the scratches on his face.

Sighing, Rebecca nodded—then narrowed her eyes at her brother. “We’ll talk about this later. You should go back on up to your common room.”

“Like hell I will!” Nate snapped, looking at the boy he’d spent the last hour snogging, hoping for some support.

Draco, on the other hand, now seemed ambivalent about the other boy. He’d only been looking for a little fun—possibly an orgasm—from the boy two years his junior. Now that it had been interrupted, he was fairly sure that he wasn’t really interested in him. Nate Douglas was, after all, just a substitute for the one Draco did want...the one he knew he could never have.

Sighing, Draco nodded. “Go on, Nate,” he said, grabbing the boy’s shirt and tugging him in for a final kiss. “Listen to your sister. You’re out past curfew, after all.”

For a moment, Nate kissed back, but then he realized he was being dismissed. Pushing away from Draco, he frowned, then he looked at his sister and glared. “Thanks a lot, Becca!” he snarled—then walked off.

“You’re such an arse, Malfoy,” the girl said when her brother was gone.

Straightening up, Draco adjusted his clothing and shrugged. “Hey, we were having a perfectly decent time until you arrived, so...don’t blame me,” he said with a smirk.

“You don’t even like him, do you?” she persisted.

Draco shrugged again. “Not particularly, but...a bloke’s got to do what—”

SMACK!

“Ouch!” yelled the blond. “Blaise, control your woman!”

Blaise laughed again as the three of them started down the corridor, heading to the hospital wing.

~oOo~

The four Gryffindors were standing off to the side, watching while Madam Pomfrey attended the injuries of the Slytherin girls. Darla was lying, tucked into one of the beds, no longer unconscious...and healed, for the most part, but under strict instructions to rest there for the next twenty-four hours to make sure she was not concussed. Pansy was also lying on a bed, her split lip and abrasions healed, but a bit shaken up. Daphne, uninjured sat in a chair between her friends.

“So, what exactly happened here?” Madam Pomfrey asked as she pick up her quill, dipped it in some ink, then put it to parchment. “Tell me everything.”

Daphne sighed. “We were hexed, but...” She looked at her friends, then back up at the older woman. “We never actually saw who it was.”

Madam Pomfrey frowned. “That’s what you said last time, Miss Greengrass.”

Daphne’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Madam Pomfrey...I don’t know what to tell you.”

“I see,” the older woman said as she glanced over at the Gryffindors. “Did the four you see anything?”

The Gryffindors all shook their heads.

“We only saw a flash of light in the corridor,” said Hermione. “And, of course, went to see what it was.”

Madam Pomfrey sighed. “Well, make yourselves comfortable,” she said to all of them. “I will have to alert Headmistress McGonagall.”

They all nodded and watched the woman walk off. Ginny quickly sat on one of the unoccupied beds and Hermione joined her. Harry and Ron continued to stand. No one said anything for several minutes—then Ron looked at Harry and started in on the conversation they’d been having before the incident.

“Are you sure...you know?” he asked. “I mean...maybe you’ve just not met the right girl yet. Did you ever think of that?”

Hermione and Ginny rolled their eyes.

Harry glanced at the Slytherin girls—the three of them were talking quietly to each other and didn’t appear to be listening—then back at his friend. “Ron, I like cock,” he said bluntly.

Ron cringed...all three of the Slytherin girls’ heads instantly turned...and Hermione and Ginny burst out laughing.

“Get over it,” Harry continued, folding his arms over his chest as his eyes went to the opening hospital wing door. He frowned then as he saw Draco Malfoy enter with two others.

“Is Madam Pomfrey here?” the blond asked. “We’ve got a bit of.... What’s going on here?” His eyes were on his Housemates. “Pansy?”

It was Daphne who responded, however. “We were attacked.”

“Again?” Blaise queried, his hand linked with Rebecca’s.

The three Slytherin girls nodded.

“Wait. Again?” Hermione said with a frown. “How many times has this happened?”

Daphne bit her lip. “A fair few,” she answered honestly.

“And you don’t know who’s doing it?” the bushy-haired Gryffindor pushed. The end of the war had been particularly hard on the Slytherins, because they were blamed for everything—even those who played no part in the evil that had been done.

The blonde Slytherin girl shook her head. “No, we don’t. Every time it happens, we’re not facing who’s doing it. But it’s never been this bad before.”

“Well, we’ll set up patrols,” Hermione said firmly.

“We don’t need your help, Granger!” Pansy snapped angrily.

Hermione stared. “I just...want to help,” she said, then fell silent.

Madam Pomfrey returned after that and, seeing that there were more injuries, went to work again. Draco’s bruised eye was healed, as were the scratches on Blaise’s face.

“Young lady, hitting people isn’t acceptable,” she scolded Rebecca.

Rebecca nodded. “I know. I was just...so angry.”

Madam Pomfrey nodded. “I understand that, but I’m going to have to give you detention.”

The girl nodded.

“And send your parents an owl,” the older woman continued.

“You don’t have to do that, do you?” Blaise interrupted. “I forgive her.”

At this, Draco glared. “I don’t forgive her. I’m the one she hit.”

“Can you blame her?” Blaise asked, brows raised.

Draco snorted. “Yes. I did nothing wrong.”

Rebecca glared. “Says you!” she argued.

And while that conversation was going on, Ron and Harry went back to their previous discussion.

“I just...don’t understand, Harry,” Ron continued. “Couldn’t you try to...you know...date a girl?”

Harry sighed. “No. Absolutely not,” he said firmly.

Ron huffed loudly, then pushed past Draco Malfoy and flopped down onto another empty bed.

“What’s his problem?” Draco asked, his gray eyes narrowed on the obviously disgruntled redhead.

“Oh!” Pansy burst, sitting up. “Potter likes boys.” She grinned and winked at her friend knowingly.

Ron bolted up. “Harry thinks he does.”

“Hello,” said Harry, “I’m still here, you know.”

Everyone ignored him.

“It doesn’t work like that, Weasel,” Draco said. “If Potter is attracted to blokes, then he’s gay.”

Ron’s face turned red. “I don’t care what you think, Ferret!” he growled. “Stay out of this!”

Draco frowned. “This has nothing to do with what I think, Weasley,” he argued. “It’s all about Potter...just as it always is.”

“HEY!” Harry cut in. “How did this become about me?”

“Well, this is about you?” Ginny put in, grinning at her friend.

“I mean...why are we discussing my business?” the black-haired young man asked.

Pansy laughed. “Potter, anything to do with you will always be up for discussion. You are public property! How can you not be used to this already?”

“For once, I agree with the snake here,” Ron burst. “But, Harry, come on...you haven’t even kissed a bloke.”

Harry glared at Ron. “How would you know?”

Ron’s eyes widened—and Harry’s went to Rebecca Douglas. This caused Blaise Zabini to burst out laughing.

“Seems Draco and Potter have something in common. Or should I say, someone,” the darker boy said. It took a moment for everyone in the room to understand—including Rebecca. Turning on the Gryffindor, she charged after him.

“How could you?!” she screamed—but found herself restrained by her boyfriend, who was laughing again.

“Now, now, pet,” Blaise said, hugging her close. “I’m sure Nate can take care of himself...and others, it would seem.”

Both Harry and Draco rolled their eyes at the innuendo.

“Really, Harry?” Ron asked. “I just...I don’t believe this.”

Harry sighed. “I’m gay, Ron...totally and completely gay.”

“Prove it,” the red-haired young man demanded.

“And how am I supposed to do that?” Harry asked, frowning.

“Well, there are three blokes in the room besides yourself, Potter,” Pansy said helpfully. “Though I don’t think two of them are available...or interested.” She snickered.

Startled, Harry’s green eyes swung to the blond. He was glaring at Parkinson, but slowly turned and faced Harry.

“Shall we, Potter?” Malfoy asked him, taking the slightest step in Harry’s direction.

Blinking, Harry gave the slightest nod and, within a second, the blond’s mouth was on his, nipping and nibbling as they started, then they settled in to explore each other’s mouths.

“Oi!” Ronald Weasley yelled, looking away. “Merlin! I believe you. Please stop.”

But Harry and Draco didn’t stop. In fact, they were wrapped so firmly around one another that they simply forgot there was anyone else in the room.

“Oh Merlin, you two, get a room!” Madam Pomfrey suggested as she reentered the room with the headmistress.

This seemed to get the boys’ attention. Abruptly, they separated. Draco wiped at his lip, because it was wet with saliva...and Harry’s eyes glowed, his cheeks red with heat.

“Shall we?” Draco asked, inclining his head toward the door in suggestion that they depart—get a room.

Harry nodded. “Night guys!” he said without so much as a glance at his friends, then grabbed Draco’s hand and started for the door.

Ron groaned, but everyone else laughed.

“Ahh, to be young again,” Headmistress McGonagall said with a smile and sigh.

~oOo~


	2. Chapter Two

After only a few short steps out into the corridor—and away from gawking eyes—Draco Malfoy pushed Harry Potter up against the stone wall and forcefully joined their mouths. The black-haired young man fought back, of course, because...well, what else was there for him to do. And what else would anyone expect with these two?

But not in the sense of fighting the kiss. No, Harry wasn’t fighting that at all. Instead he was trying to assert his own dominance by quickly moving so that he could shove the blond up against the cold wall.

Draco groaned, but continued to snog his once-rival—until he felt the other man’s need pushing against his upper thigh.

“Potter. Perhaps...we could take...this...somewhere...a little more...private?” he said, punctuating the last word by reversing their positions again and grinding his own need on Harry’s hip.

His lips still on the blond’s, Harry nodded. “Room of...Requirement.”

Draco immediately ceased the kiss and started to walk away without so much as a comment.

“Hey! What’d I say? Malfoy!” Harry barked in frustration as he went after the other man. “Wait. Come back here!”

“Piss off, Potter!” Draco sneered, quickening his step—which didn’t at all deter the dark-haired man.

Catching up, Harry reached out and grabbed the blond’s arm and swung him around. “What the fuck, Malfoy?! At least explain,” he demanded, confusion clear in his shining green eyes.

Shrugging roughly from Harry’s grasp, Draco scoffed. “Really, Potter? The Room of Requirement?”

Harry just stared—for a moment...and then it dawned on him. “We’ve repaired it,” he explained. “It’s not...broken anymore.”

Draco blinked, then shuddered with obvious pain. “But...how?” he thought, his mind on Vince and his friend’s fiery death.

“Magic,” was all Harry said.

“I’m...not going into the Room of Hidden Things,” the blond insisted.

Harry shook his head. He understood the other man’s unwillingness to go into the Room of Hidden Things, but...while it was essentially the same room, the Room of Requirement was not exactly the same—the Room of Hidden Things was just a part of the other, much larger room, and they wouldn’t be going into that part of it. Not tonight anyway.

“I can make it...a nice place...for us,” said Harry, advancing on the gray-eyed man slowly. Slowly, he reached out and touched Draco Malfoy’s chest, then slid his hands up and over his shoulders, melding their bodies together—and then their mouths.

“With a soft...bed...to lie on,” he continued, backing the blond into the wall again. “Instead of...a cold, hard wall...to be vertical...against. Yeah?” He grinned, his lips still on the other man’s.

And Draco smirked into it as well, losing himself in the kiss—until hands wove into his hair. Turning his head aside—to free is mouth for better communication—he spoke. “Watch the hair, Potter...I don’t want it to look like yours.”

Chuckling, Harry only yanked harder on the soft, platinum strands and moved his attention to the column of neck bared to him, making the blond moan.

“Are we...gonna do this?” asked Harry.

Draco frowned. “Do this?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah. Fuck.”

The blond rolled his eyes and maneuvered himself out of the dark-haired man’s embrace. “Eloquent, Potter...as always.”

Harry just grinned. “There’s no place for eloquence in my life, Malfoy. I just say what I’m thinking.”

“Clearly,” Draco scoffed.

“So?”

“So what, Potter?”

Green eyes rolled. “If not the Room of Requirement, then where?”

“Well, we each have a dorm room,” Draco said, shifting on this feet.

Harry’s brows raised. “Yeah, with several other blokes in them.”

“Point taken.” Draco said with a frown. “Well, there are several empty classrooms.”

Harry shook his head. “We’re not fucking in a classroom...someone could walk in on us.”

“Ever heard of locks, Potter?” the blond sneered.

Harry snorted. “Locks don’t necessarily keep people from entering. There are spells for opening locked doors, you know!”

Draco sighed. “All right then. Might as well be out in the open. There’s a great niche that not many people know about on the—”

“Fourth floor?” Harry finished for the blond. “Yeah. I know about it too. A lot of people do and, as much as I like our classmates, I don’t fancy someone stumbling upon us and seeing my bare arse as I—”

“Merlin, Potter, you’re going to find a protest for every suggestion I have,” Draco complained. “How about outside? Wait. Did you just imply that it would be you fucking me?”

Harry grinned. “I did.”

Draco snorted. “I think not.”

The dark-haired young man shrugged. “It doesn’t actually matter to me, Malfoy. I’m versatile.”

“That’s a big word for you, Potter.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Are we going to talk about this all night or get down to business?”

“I would rather not have to listen to your nattering all night, no, so...where shall we take this?”

“Not outside,” Harry said. “It’s cold.”

Draco crossed his arms over his chest. “Where then?” He was getting annoyed, but the prospect of a good fuck caused him to exercise some patience.

“I told you...the best place is the Room of Requirement. But you’re against it...for good reason,” Harry said, understanding.

The blond shifted on his feet and frowned, his crossed arms unconsciously moving into a more vulnerable position on—around—his body. He appreciated the fact that Potter was somewhat sensitive to his objection.

“Come on, Malfoy,” Harry started—then slowly moved closer and took the blond into his arms. “Draco,” he whispered, trying the other boy’s given name out for the first time. “I promise the fire is gone.”

Draco shuddered, but relaxed into Harry’s arms. He wanted to cry, but wouldn’t allow himself. Not in front of Potter! “All right,” he finally murmured.

Harry grinned and squeezed him, then slowly released him, one of his hands sliding down Draco’s arm and grasping his hand. “Come on,” he said, pulling gently.

Draco nodded and allowed himself to be pulled.

~oOo~

It took several tries to get the room the way he wanted it. This caused Draco to grumble that maybe that meant the room wasn’t completely fixed. Harry explained that it was his own fault, because he had conflicting thoughts about how the room should be. In the end, Harry decided the room needed to be comfortable for the blond, since he was clearly uneasy about entering. Harry’d wanted what he was used to; red and gold—warmth! And maybe a fireplace blazing, making the light flicker around the room.

But fire was out—a large one at least—and so was red if Harry had any chance of getting the blond into the room and out of his clothing. And so he thought of the low-ceilinged, dungeon-like Common Room of Slytherin House with its dark walls, greenish lamps and chairs—with skulls all around—and imagined a large bed there as well. Inwardly, Harry had to roll his eyes at the thought of skulls making anyone comfortable, but...well, if they did, they did.

Telling the blond to wait while he checked his creation—for the third time—Harry peeked into the room and smiled.

“Are we going in or not, Potter?” asked an impatient blond.

“Yeah. I think we can go in this one,” Harry agreed as he pushed open the door and gestured for Draco to enter.

Draco huffed and walked into the room—then gasped and turned on Harry. “You’ve been in my Common Room!”

Harry’s dark head bobbed. “Yeah. Second year. You were with me.”

“What! How?”

“Ron and I...we brewed Polyjuice and—”

“You two brewed Polyjuice?” Draco asked disbelievingly.

Harry laughed as he closed the door, shutting out the world. “Hermione did, actually. She was going to come too, but...she mistakenly put a cat hair in her cup. You should have seen her; she was a disaster.”

“Granger’s always a disaster!”

“Hey! Be nice,” Harry scolded.

Gray eyes rolled. “I’m never nice, Potter.”

“True that.”

“Piss off, Potter!” the blond snapped—without any animosity.

Harry laughed again. “So. I do okay?” he asked with a gesture at the room.

Glancing around a bit, Draco shrugged. “I suppose,” he said, taking a few steps in. His eyes went to the huge four-poster, which stood out prominently in the room. It wasn’t the same as the ones in his dorm and somehow that made him feel better about Potter’s little invasion on Slytherin House several years back—because that probably meant the Gryffindor hadn’t been in the room where he and his housemates slept.

“I wasn’t sure about lighting the fireplace,” the dark-haired man went on. “Fire and all, but...would it be okay if I...”

As an answer, Draco pulled out his wand and lit a fire. “I don’t have a problem with fire,” he said. “Not really.”

Harry nodded, not quite sure what else to say.

“I never thanked you for returning my wand,” the blond said as he slipped it back into his pocket, “I appreciate it.”

This time Harry shrugged. “It’s yours. I had no right to keep it.”

Draco scowled. “You had no right to take it in the first place.”

Harry chuckled. “All’s fair in love and war.”

“Hmm. I suppose,” the blond said, looking away and moving toward the bed. It was green...though not Slytherin green. At least it’s not red, Draco thought as he reached out and ran a hand over the bedding. It was soft. Not the quality he had at home, mind, but...still quite nice.

This’ll do, he decided with a smile. He was glad his back was to Potter, so that the other man wouldn’t see the pleasure on this face. He wasn’t willing to feed the Gryffindor’s ego.

Taking his hand from the bed and bringing it up to the closure of his robes, Draco stilled his features and turned to face Harry Potter.

“All right, Potter,” he said, “how are we going to do this?”

Harry shrugged. “Dunno. You said you wouldn’t let me bugger you, so...” He let his words trail off.

“I’m actually rather versatile as well,” said Draco.

Harry grinned. “Brilliant!” he burst, shouldering off his robes—which had never been closed in the first place—and tossing them over a green chair, then pulling his shirt over his head and doing the same with it. Next, he toed his trainers off. Then, reaching for the button closure of his denims, he popped it open.

Draco watched him, a bit surprised. “You’re just...going to strip down?”

Harry stopped, his fly now open. “Um. Yeah?”

The blond chuckled, then moved forward. “How about you slow down,” he suggested, spreading his fingers over the other man’s bare chest. He looked down for a moment, his eyes on the trail of dark hair that disappeared into Potter’s pants—his red pants!—then brought them back up to shining green eyes. “No one’s going to interrupt us and, if this is a one time thing here, maybe we should...savor it.” Leaning in, Draco brought their mouths together.

It ended quickly.

“Doesn’t have to be,” Harry said when his lips were no longer attached to Malfoy’s. “You know, if we don’t want.”

Draco blinked, surprised again. He’d assumed Potter wouldn’t really want to have anything to do with him afterward. But maybe he would. After all, Potter didn’t seem the love ‘em and leave ‘em type. Nor was he the kind to care what others thought. Draco’d had boys refuse to be seen with him—because of his family’s past—and it had hurt. Not that he’d let them know. But he wasn’t really ready to jump into anything with the Chosen One.

Except the bed.

Not responding to Potter’s words, Draco stepped back and shrugged out of his own open robes, then folded them neatly and placed them on the chair. After that, he reached for his tie and loosened it.

“Leave it on,” Harry said, his hands staying the blond’s movements, then unbuttoning his shirt.

Draco smirked. “Got a thing for ties, Potter?”

“Not really,” he said with a shrug as he disentangled Malfoy’s tie from the collar and pushed his shirt open. “Just...wanted to see it on you with no shirt.”

“Shall I keep my socks on as well?”

Harry laughed. “Naw. Those can come off with everything else. Unless...you’re cold?”

Draco shook his head. “If I get cold, then you’re doing something wrong, Potter,” he taunted.”

“All right,” said Harry. “I’ll try not to mess this up. But no promises. It’s not like I’m all that experienced at this.”

“You a virgin, Potter?” Draco asked mockingly.

“Er. No,” he said—then felt he should explain. “There were a few Muggles over the summer...after I figured things out.”

“I see,” the blond said—not at all sure he was pleased with Potter’s answer. “All right then. Well, since we both have at least some experience, let’s get this—”

“Wait. Some experience. Are you saying...?”

Draco rolled his eyes impatiently. “I’m not a virgin either, Potter. Sorry if I was unclear.”

“Oh. Good,” Harry said—strangely conflicted about Malfoy’s response. “Okay then.” He reached out then and took Malfoy’s wrist and unbuttoned the cuff, then undid the other and removed his shirt. He was going to toss the shirt on the chair, but the blond grabbed it and scowled.

“This was made in France, Potter. Very expensive,” he said pulling out his wand and spelling it onto a hanger.

Harry snorted. “Oh-kay.

Draco smirked. “Just because you dress like a street urchin...”

“Hey! I’ve never had a choice in much in my life...until now,” Harry protested. “And, instead of you giving me shite for everything, could we focus on fucking?”

“Right. Okay,” Draco agreed, using his wand to Vanish the rest of their clothing.

“HEY!” Harry all but squealed.

The blond laughed—but it sort of sounded like a giggle and that caused Harry to laugh too. Grinning, Harry pushed his naked, once-rival onto the bed and crawled over him.

“So, who’s doing who?” he asked.

“Whom,” Draco corrected.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Which one of us is receiving?”

Draco smirked. “I would be amenable to that.”

“Really?”

“To be honest, I...prefer it.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Draco shrugged. “I’d be more than willing to fuck you next time.”

Harry chortled a laugh. “Deal,” he agreed, then gently rolled the blond over—Malfoy didn’t resist at all—and brought his lube-covered fingers to his arse, pushing against but not into his hole.

Gasping, Draco groaned out a, “Wandless magic, Potter?”

“For a while now,” Harry responded with a grin. Then he frowned and wiggled his finger around. “Are you...hairless down here?”

Draco snorted. “I spell it gone, Potter. It feels nice.”

“I’ll say it does,” Harry agreed, his finger circling the smooth opening, then pushing inside.

“Oh! FUCK!” the blond burst. “That feels nice!”

Harry pushed in and out a few times, then added two fingers, then removed them completely and used his legs to spread Malfoy’s thighs fully and pushed himself into the other man’s body until his pelvis was flush with the blond’s pert arse—causing them both to moan obscenely.

“Oh! FUCK!” Draco groaned, shuddering.

Harry laughed. “That’s what I’m doing,” he said as he snapped his hips forward—hard! A few times. And then he snaked his hand around and grabbed Draco’s hard and needy cock. It was leaking—shamelessly—and the blond was trembling.

“Merlin, Potter...you’re...good at this!”

“I aim to please,” Harry said, whipping his body forward, forcing his cock into the blond’s prostate.

Draco whimpered, then chuckled when he was able. “And why...weren’t we...always...doing this?!”

“Well...newly gay...and all that,” Harry said, his hand moving faster over the blond’s erection. “And...you were a bit of a prick.”

“Don’t touch me, Potter!” he gasped out, pushing Harry’s hand off his cock.

“What?! Why?”

“I’m really...sensitive. Don’t need...you to touch me. Just...harder, Potter.!”

“All right, then,” Harry growled, whipping his hips a few times—then screaming out as he came. “I’m sorry,” he apologized as he convulsed.

The blond rode it out, then snorted with amusement. “I came as well, Harry. That was...bloody fantastic!”

“Oh good. Merlin, I thought I’d come too soon,” he said, pulling out and rolling to his back.

“Well, it would have been fine with me if you’d gone on all night, but...still pretty brilliant, Potter, so I’ll forgive you.” He collapsed then and rolled to his side and eyed the other man. “Merlin, had I known you were holding that back, I might have tried to pull you sooner.”

“The operative word being try.”

Draco scoffed. “Fuck you, Potter!”

Harry laughed. “Hey. Wanna do this again...Draco?”

The blond cocked his head. “That’s the second time you’ve used my given name.”

“Well, it’s not a bad name.”

Draco grinned.

“Odd, but...not bad.”

Reaching out, Draco slapped the man beside him—and Harry Potter laughed.

“I think I like you...a little bit,” Harry said, blushing.

Draco Malfoy grinned again. “I like you too...Harry,” he admitted. “Just a little bit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...there you go...I hope you like it.
> 
> This was written and posted almost four years ago...on ffn...under another name (Spirit of the Night Owl), where most of my fics aren't complete...and I have no time for writing these days, so they'll probably stay that way. *sigh*

**Author's Note:**

> Characters…
> 
> Darla is made up...though I’ve used her name in other fics (under my other fanfic account name). She is Daphne’s best friend and one of the five girls sorted into Slytherin the same year that Harry started Hogwarts...in the HP world according to ME!
> 
> Rebecca is sort of made up. I found the name on Harry Potter Wiki, but she was a Ravenclaw...and I wanted a Hufflepuff, so...I resorted her for my convenience. I also had to create a last name for her, because, on HP Wiki, Rebecca (from Ravenclaw) doesn’t have one. This was easy, because I wanted her to be Nate’s sister. Also, I believe she was a video game character...so if you go there and look her up, just assumed she’s a different Rebecca. And Christie...if you’re reading this...sorry I used your daughter’s name for a angry little Hufflepuff. Hehe.
> 
> Nathaniel “Nate” Douglas is NOT made up. I also found him on Harry Potter Wiki and used him as the boy Draco is snogging.


End file.
